Afterour previous blog posts about extending your motorcycle cables and brake lines,and another about measuring for comfortable bars, we thoughtit’s about time to take on the topic of cables all by themselves. Harley Throttle Let’sstart with HD throttle cables. Inthis modern era we use a two-cable system, something that was mandated by thegovernment to preclude sticking […]
How To Order Motorcycle Cables Read More »
On the map it was to be seen as a small red square set flush against the Equator, for all the world like a scarlet kerchief hung up to dry on a line. That was how Terry Devine expressed it when he first located it in his old school Atlas, but he didn’t know then
For the printed version, find the lastest issue of Cycle Source Magazine, but not at Walmart Stores. Author's Note: Funny you should run an article on how fucked up Wal-Mart (from Cycle Source Magazine) is treating its potential suppliers, trying to come off as some holier-than-thou corporation saving us from ourselves by keeping objectionable material
Walmart Wars Continue Read More »
There’s a wild air cleaner from Paul Cox. I’m going to say, and I might be off base, that most carbs are rebuilt for a couple of reasons: either they sat too long, sucked bad gas, or ran without an air cleaner too long. I would venture to guess that most carbs on custom bikes
Rebuilding The S&S Shorty Series Carbs Read More »
There were too many boxes to pack on the bike so Sullivan hauled his kids' Christmas gifts to the UPS office in his boss's van. A worn out but sympathetic clerk took his money, reminding him that the holiday was only two days off and there was no way the kids would get the presents
“If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him.”–Voltaire (1694 – 1778)When I first took to the road, I only desired to experience firsthand what was known exclusively to the earliest of worldly explorers. Discovering not just a new place, but living a new life, a new culture, a new fuck under
Wayfarer: Death Comes Lately… Read More »
The smell of Wild Turkey mixed with the spicy boiling Top Ramen scent on Iron Buffalo’s single apartment stove. A loner, he worked for Custom Chrome, lifted weights and tinkered with his only major possession: a hot rod chopper. He sipped the drink as he stirred the vegetables and steak-chunks and thought about his recent
“Okay, beam me up Scotty.” Tinker put down the phone and stepped into the pentagram.Eight hours behind and nearly five thousand miles away in Vancouver, Henry flicked aside long grey hair, wiped his granny glasses, and checked an identical ‘gram on the floor for the umpteenth time. He returned the detailed instructions to the envelope
The teardrop tank was full. So was my wallet. My coal black chopper burned rubber and blended into the asphalt stretching below me and the dark sky above. The milestones popped out every other minute and so did stars from behind clouds. Sturgis conquered I was off to see Sofie at the town beyond the
As he headed home in the small hours with the baffles closed on Poke’s open duals and Bonzo snoring snug as a dormouse inside his jacket, Tinker heard the screams. He traced them to a bus stop where a trail of spilt handbag crap led to the darkened mouth of an alley.Coasting up, his headlight
The Sensible Swordsman Read More »
“Some geezer wanting to unload an old Indian,” the snout had said over his free beer. “Got the address right here if you see me right.”That had lured Tinker into one of those concrete concentration camps laughingly called ‘estates’. Nobody with any sense went there, nobody with any choice. Dumps for the chumps and gutters
Indian Scout For Sale Read More »
The cemetery, the morning we brought poor dead Mokes to it, was quiet. Very quiet. The Spring sun in the blue sky was quiet. The air was quiet. The birds were quiet. And the small group of mourners standing over by a gravesite in silent prayer, they were quiet too. We approached the group with
Tinker saw a bike stalled at the side of the country road and pulled over. It’s what you do, hurry or no.“You okay?’ The question was superfluous. A gormless spottie stood irresolutely beside his neglected-looking Japanese one-lunger. “Crapped out on me, didn’t it. Now the pig won’t even start.” Spots lit another fag; there were
Tinker stood in the tiny cubicle and relaxed. His reflection finally appeared in the mirror and he combed the tangles out of his silvered black hair , tying it back in an inconspicuous queue. His full beard had been trimmed, even worn a clean shirt and tie. Quick check of the wrist watch, deep breath–Show
It was a small house, even had a chimney, cost me $35. I wanted to kick it's resident's ass. Bruno, the name sure sounds tough, but any wimp could have him running for cover. That's my German shepherd pet, and he was in his single room home hiding his face in his fairly strong paws.
Keep your Eyes on the Road and Hands on the Wheel Read More »
She was a dark and stormy bitch. The allusions to mythical vamps and witches could not do justice to her vile demeanor and wicked ways. It was obvious that I would have to concede. I may be a healthy youthful sprite but she was a powerful cursed creature of doom. Together we could have ruled
The Woman From Tomorrow Read More »
I rumbled across the weedpatch serving as a yard and came to a stop beneath a drooping cottonwood tree. Mongo never bothered to look up even as my dust settled over him. As always, he was fine-tuning one or another of his 110-inch stroker's high—performance whazzits. After a bit of tinkering, he wiped an already
Absolutely incredible I say to myself, no one for 75 miles. The winding Montana mountain road is so desolate I wonder if the Indians or Lewis and Clark were the last to see it. Not to mention it’s slightly, umm, shall we say hillier than Indiana? I round the curve and there’s the guy I’ve
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“Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction.”Yup that’s what Pa used to say; back in the days when horses traveled cross-country and tin-cans served us humans’ supper. But this ain’t a tale about those times. And with the faces of these Chinamen, you couldn’t
As we barreled down Farm Road 1725, I knew I was at the perfect place for the day. Halfway between New Waverly and Humble, Texas, I was flying down the road, racing Mike to my son’s school. Here it was 2:20, and he gets out of school at 3:10. I had never been late to
In a slick downtown Chicago H-D dealership, Joe Jacobs sat at his highly polished antique desk, desperate and disillusioned. The 45-year-old service manager had just been dumped by the love of his life. He couldn't focus on his work, his ever-increasing workload, on his uptown lifestyle, or on the frozen streets of Chicago. He hurt
Can Joe Find His Soul? Read More »
The white lines reflected under the Road King’s headlight. They passed by in perfect rhythm, almost hypnotic. Jasper felt like he was flying. There was no breeze; the night air smelled sweet and the bike sang a beautiful tune from true duals. It was the perfect ride considering the circumstances.Jasper was on his way to
The Lines Of Insight Read More »
Editor's Note: Here's a rough piece of fiction from a Bikernet reader. Although his prose are scrambled his story comes across. It's a classic, and if you love stories of found antique motorcycles, you need to pick up this new book from Motorbooks. It's full of true stories of classic vintage motorcycle discoveries. Some I
Bernard “Wolf’ Hodkins scratched his grizzled, gray beard and peered down into the depths of Snake Eye Canyon. A few pieces of rusting chrome resting on the bottom of the chasm glinted from the last rays of a fading sun. He sighed and looked over at his towering companion. “It’s hard to believe that it
Riders of the Wind Read More »
